The Walking Dead: Silence is Golden
by JharozRain
Summary: A wise man once said, "Never mistake silence for wisdom." Enter Lee Everett, a mute who is on his way to a life sentence for trying to protect the one person most precious to him. Now, in a world where there is only living and dead, Lee has to protect a new precious person from the horrors of a world that fell apart. Will he survive? Or will his cries remain unheard?
1. Trouble on the Road

**Alright, so! I am JharozRain and YOU! ARE!**

**Beautiful.**

**If you are aware of my exploits then you know that I am a minor player in the fanfiction world. My other fic, The Blazed Hour, is more of a way for me to relay my high times and escapades. However, I really do want to try and make a fic with more substance and less fart jokes.**

**Then I played the Walking Dead.**

**HOLY SHIT. I've never been more... affected by a game since this series. Everything feels so goddamn real, especially with the whole 'protect a cute little girl' motif. I would say the same thing about Dead Rising, but you can dress up in a little kid's super hero jumpsuit and a dino head. That's not emotionally trying, is it?**

**While I was playing, I remember the prompt showing up saying 'silence is always an option.'**

**Well what if Lee was silent all the time? As in he was a mute? AS IN I'M A FUCKING GENIUS, RIGHT?!**

**Now, my brain is being chewed on by plot bunny and yelling, screaming even, to fucking do something a bit more serious.**

**Also, I might not do errything according to the game. That's more out of laziness than any other reason. But maybe out of continuity, too. I mean, Chet?! Who the fuck is he?!**

**Well then, LESSDOIT**

* * *

A Police SUV sped along I-80, its back towards the vast city of Atlanta. The SUV zipped past the slowing cars around it, bobbing and weaving past a few sedans and hatch-back trucks. Inside, an elder caucasian officer with balding white hair sat in the driver's seat, while behind the cage sat a middle-aged black man with short black hair and an unkempt beard. The man who sat in the back looked at his wrists, which were securely cuffed, before looking back up.

The two sat in silence for a good long while until the officer spoke up. "Well, I guess you didn't do it."

The other man didn't say anything for a few moments, and then settled with shrugging.

"Seems like the people who speak the least are the ones who keep their noses out of trouble." The officer sighed. "Not like it matters, anyhow." his captor said, more to himself, before chuckling.

The radio on the center console erupted to life."_Calling all officers, we have reports of riots breaking out across the greater Atlanta area._"

News like that is a bit disconcerting to normal folk, but the officer didn't seem the least bit worried about the prospect of anarchy.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of I-80, Police cruisers, SUVs, and motorbike riders shot past, sirens blaring. The convict pointed at the radio, questioningly.

The officer followed the finger with his eyes until it landed on the radio that kept on calling for assistance. "What this ol' thing? You need to learn to stop worrying about things you can't control." With that, he cut the radio's feed off, and left it at that.

At the same time, a Police heli hovered overhead, before heading straight to Atlanta.

The man, by now, was extremely concerned. Something must have been very, VERY wrong.

All the while the aging officer was going on some dribble about how an old convict sat in that same seat the new convict is in right now. "He was wailing on and on about how he didn't do it. Oh, he was crying eyes out, getting snot all over his shirt." He looked into the rear-view mirror, awaiting a reply. He saw the man cock his head to the side, as if asking if the man was guilty.

The driver shook his head, almost bitterly. "They caught the fucker red-handed. Stabbing his wife in the neck, all the while he was laughing maniacally. That's when the boys busted the door down." He saw the look of disdain cross his charge's face. "Then he starts crying out to his mama. 'Mama! It wasn't me! It was all just a big mistake!' Pathetic, truly." The man shook his head.

"You don't talk too much, do 'ya?" the officer asked. The man shook his head.

Another bout of silence swept over the SUV, this time heavier than the first. The officer sucked in a breath of air before saying, "And then there was this other time-" He was interrupted by the sound of a gasp and banging on the cage. The officer's focus shifted to the road where he just saw a PERSON crossing the interstate. He swerved in an attempt to miss the poor soul, but instead not only did he hit the unfortunate soul, but he also drove the SUV off the road and down a hill into the forest beside it.

The man in the back was bumped, tumbled, and banged around, before the car finally ended its spiral to the foot of the hill. With that notice, he blacked out.

* * *

At random intervals his eyes fluttered open, until they remained that way at about noon, the next day. He was thirsty and his leg hurt like hell, the wound was deep and could be infected, and he noticed that he was the only one in the SUV. Panicked, he looked around the surrounding area, and his eyes widened saw the officer that was driving him. The poor man was face-down in the grass, his shotgun not too far away.

First glance would tell him that the officer was ejected from his seat after the crash. Further inspection, though, dissuaded that theory when he saw the officer's blood trail begin from a different direction than the SUV.

THAT was disconcerting.

Either way the man had to get out of the hand-cuffs in order to get help. Just because he was a convinct, doesn't mean he was above helping an officer of the law. He inched his way towards the shattered window on the opposite side and crawled out slowly.

He didn't hit the ground as slowly.

That was when he noticed how quiet it was, even for a man who's senses are as sharp as a razor blade. Even though he might not expect help to come immediately, shouldn't he still hear cars roaring along I-80?

The man struggled to pull himself up, but managed. He moved along the side of the car towards the downed officer. Something about him smelled differently. Pushing that out of his mind for the moment, the man bent over and reached for the officer's keys with his still-cuffed hands. He snatched them rather dexterously and unlocked the cuffs.

He heard a shuffle and looked down at the officer.

A demon's eye met his.

The world seemed to explode as the... not-so-much-a-person officer was hell-bent on grabbing the man's legs,and ended up grabbing his bad one, knocking him over. The obvious reflex was to get away from the beast as fast a possible, so he scooted back as far as he could until his back met the SUV's car door. The monster still kept coming for him, digging its nails into the fresh dirt to pull itself forward, and his eyes went everywhere in search of something to banish this unholy presence.

His sight landed on the officer's shotgun and his mind clicked. He reached for the shotgun as quickly as he could, gave it strong pump, and aimed it at the... thing's head, threateningly. When it wasn't deterred, the man fired without hesitation.

Chunks of the thing's head were blasted away, all the down to the bottom lips. The gruesome sight made the shooter vomit our a sickly green bile.

The convict had killed once before, but that was out of rage. This was just... sickening.

The sound of the gunshot reverberated across the forest and awoke its new inhabitants.

He was still hyperventilating when he heard the first groan. He looked over his shoulder and saw a group of the same... things that he just fought before. He stumbled his way back onto his feet, shotgun clenched in his hand, and limped his way out of the forest.

It seemed like the forest was the breeding ground for those monsters, as they just kept pouring through the foliage, chasing after the convict. He drug his bad leg and clutched the shotgun in his hand tighter as he made a break for a fence line.

Thinking back on it, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to climb a fence with a bum leg, but the man didn't have many other options. He tossed the weapon over the fence before hauling himself over with all of his might.

The monsters were closing in on him, and he only just got over the fence and into the backyard of another person's house when they were within reaching distance. As he landed, he took a huge breath he didn't know he was holding. The groans were still all around him, but at least he protected for the moment. The sound of a kick start of a motor shot across from somewhere in the neighborhood and heard the shuffling go elsewhere.

The man shook his head, in a way that said to himself that that was too close. He scooped up the shotgun before taking a moment to survey his new setting. A treehouse, the house itself with a glass door, a pool with a cover over it, and at the base of the treehouse there was mat that had teapots and teacups scattered about.

He saw a movement in the treehouse out of the corner of his eye. He waved both of his arms to try and get attention, but there wasn't anything there.

Sighing, the convict moved on to the glass door and banged on it twice, to get attention. There was no response.

He bit the bullet and opened the door. The inside of the house was a mess. Tables were turned, the T.V. was on with a blue screen, cabinents were ripped open. On the kitchen counter was a... glass of water!

He hurried into the kitchen, but was unaware of the pool of blood on the floor. He slipped on it and fell shoulder first into the red liquid.

Disgusted, he picked himself and the gun back up, and swiped the glass of water. He downed it one gulp. He went to pour himself another glass out of the faucet, and drank that in one go, too.

He sighed in relief. Crisis averted, send the troops home. That was when he heard the beep.

In the living room, the telephone answering machine was trying desperately to get attention. Curious, he moved over and pressed the button to hear the calls.

The machine made a noise, before the telephonic operator kicked in. "_There are three unread messages. First unheard message."_

A woman's voice took over, calm and casual. _"Sandra? Hey! This is Diana, we're still in Savannah. Ed was harrassed by some crazy guy so we took him to the ER, he should be out in a day or two. Thanks so much for watching after Clementine, and don't worry, we'll make it back before your Spring Break. Be there quickly!" _The man was investigating the house still when he saw the fridge. Someone scribbled a note that said 'The Marsh House.'

Curious.

_"Second unheard message."_

This time the woman sounded a bit distressed. "_Oh my God, finally! We've been trying to reach you all night, our calls kept getting dropped! They won't let us leave Savannah, something big must be happening. Bunker down with Clemintine, and just wait until this thing blows over. If anything is wrong please call me! Please!"_

The man's eyebrows raised at that as he looked at the family picture next to the machine. This epidemic has spread all across Georgia, it seems, not only Atlanta.

_"Third unheard message."_

_ "Clemintine, baby! If you hear this, call the Police! They'll take care of you... That's 9...1...1... We love you... We love you... We love y-" _The message cut off there. The man's grip on the shotgun tightened until his knuckles turned white. Which, when you think about it, is pretty hard to do considering he is black...

That groaning he had already become accustomed to erupted from the second floor. The convict cursed mentally. As he heard the sound of heavy steps he wished he could actually voice his frustrations with today.

He tightened the grip on the shotgun, but this time on the barely of it, and held it like a baseball bat. He crept up to the corner of the wall that separated the staircase from the living room, and waited. As soon as the... thing, came into sight, he swung as hard as he could at its skull. There was a satisfying crunch as the monster crumpled to the floor. The thing was still flailing its arms around, though, so he struck its head, again. And again. And again. He struck the handle of the shotgun into the thing's head, embedding it into its forehead.

He heaved what felt like the hundredth sigh of the day. After much struggle, he yanked the shotgun out of its head, and then cleaned it off with a dish towel in the kitchen.

Then he heard the first good thing in what felt like eons. A person's voice.

"Hello?"

It came from an unopened drawer. He ripped it open and found a walkie-talkie. It spoke again.

"Is anyone there? Who are you?"

He cursed mentally, again. How was he supposed to convey his name over a walkie-talkie when he couldn't speak to begin with? Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a red light flashing next to the answering machine.

Light bulb.

He opened up the second message and waited until the woman said 'finally.' He clicked the communication button at the end of the word, saying 'ly.'

"Lee? That's your name?" He walked over to the glass door.

"I'm Clementine. I'm up in the treehouse." The door opened, and the girl from the portrait peeked out and waved at him. "Can you see me? I see you through the door."

He waved back and opened the door. He walked over to the treehouse and waited.

"Okay... I'm coming down... you're not bad, right?" the girl called down.

The man shook his head.

After descending down the ladder, the girl craned her neck to look at the man eye-to-eye. "You're Lee?" She asked.

The newly crowned 'Lee' nodded.

"I was up in the treehouse for a few days. Sandra went crazy and tried to grab me, so I went and hid. I don't think Sandra was... Sandra, anymore..." She trailed off.

Lee nodded.

"Did you... did you kill her?"

He nodded again, grimly.

"At least she won't hurt anyone..." Clementine sighed and clutched on to her walkie-talkie. "My parents are in Savannah, right now. I'm waiting for them here. Do you think they'll be back?"

Lee paused for a moment, considering his options. He opted to look puzzled, and shrugged his shoulders. Who knows?

Clementine looked only slightly troubled. Moving on to the next topic, she asked "Can you... Can you talk?"

He shook his head sadly.

Being only eight years old, and unable to understand some of the more intricate disabilities of the world, she opted to say, "Oh."

How eloquent.

Lee looked around the neighborhood. He stuck his thumb out and gestured towards the street. They had to move.

"Should we... should we leave? What if my parents come back and I'm not there?" Clementine asked, fearfully.

Lee looked pained at that comment. He was about to sign that her parents would follow them, but Clementine was puzzled as soon as he signed 'parents.'

He sighed, and made a motion for her to follow him. Shotgun in the left hand, Clementine's delicate hand in his right, Lee made his way into the neighborhood.

Past the gate, there were two men trying to move the wrecked cars out of the way to escape the neighborhood. One was of a lean build, while the other was just flat-out fat. Both looked like farm folks, so Lee approached slowly.

The lean man saw the two first. "Whoa, man! Don't eat us!"

Lee shook his head.

"Jeez, man. We thought ya'll were gonna chomp both of our faces off!" the portly one said.

THe lean man walked towards the two. "I'm Shawn, Shawn Greene. That fat sack of shit over there is Otis."

Otis chuckled. "Now, now. Not in front of a lady."

Shawn laughed, too. "And who are you two?"

Clementine, remembering that Lee couldn't speak, acted as the voice for the two of them. "My name is Clementine. This is Lee. He's my... uncle."

Shawn laughed, again. "What, is she your translator?"

Lee, despite himself, nodded.

"He can't talk." Clementine added.

Shawn's laughter abruptly halted. "Oh... so you're like... a mute?"

Lee nodded, again.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to come off as insensitive..."

Lee held out his hand, indicating for Shawn to stop. He was used to it, by now.

"Hey, I don't mean to break up the tea party, here, but how's about we move these cars out the way before the dead get to us?!" Otis harshly whispered.

Lee rose an eyebrow at that. The dead... walking?

Otis noticed the shock. "Yeah... the dead have just upped and started walking again. Only this time they want a hunk outta 'ya."

Lee sighed. Perfect.

"If you help us, I can give you a place to stay! I own a farm a good while away that the dead can't get to. You'd be welcome to stay if you can move these cars out of the way!" Shawn whispered.

Lee nodded, enthusiastically. First good news he heard all day.

"The let's go!"

The three men started to push away stray sedans from the street. It wasn't thrilling, but there was no way around them.

As they started pushing the last one away, something clicked. Lee's face dropped.

Shit.

The car alarm started wailing louder than coyote at a full moon, awakening the sleepy neighborhood. But instead of dogs barking and random curses of keeping the racket down, guttural groans erupted from every direction.

Shawn hustled to the pick-up truck. "Fuck it! Let's just get the hell out of here!"

Otis jumped in the bed of the truck, while Lee scooped up the shotgun and Clementine in one fell swoop, before jumping in the truck, too.

Forgoing subtlety, the engine blared to life, the tires squealing against the pavement. The truck quickly made its daring escape, knocking into the car who's alarm was still going off.

Once within reasonable safe distance, Shawn looked over at Lee, gratefully. "Y'know, blood is thicker than water, and you made sure of that shit today, huh?"

Lee couldn't help but agree.


	2. The Quiet

**I may or may not have finished this chapter way ahead of schedule, buuuuut...**

**I played Episode 5. WHAT THE FUCK ALL THESE FEELS.**

**You'll feel them too, hopefully, by the end of the fic.**

**Now, on to other things: REVIEW.**

**I have so many visitors and seven reviews! WHAT'S UP WIT DAT?**

**YOU WON'T REVIEW. YES, I'M TALKING TO YOU.**

**So do it. And enjoy the next chapter.**

**Oh, and what the fuck was with Hershel? Why isn't he fyat, and all nice-ish and shit?**

* * *

The ride to the farm was a quick, and relatively painless one. The group passed by some of those things (Walkers, Shawn called them), as well as some broken down cars and wrecked houses. They soon rid themselves of the suburban setting and moved on to a more rural area. Shawn and Otis conversed slightly, but it was relatively quiet as the pick-up rolled along the dirt road. Clementine sat, tight-lipped, and held on to Lee's arm the whole way.

Lee held on to the shotgun closely with his other arm.

A two story house came into Lee's view, along with a barn and a huge stretch of land. It seemed like a miracle that anything was left untouched by this epidemic, but he wasn't complaining. At least not about that.

His leg was REALLY starting to hurt, and he was getting anxious that it might be infected.

"Here we are." Shawn said, as the pick-up died down. "This is my dad's farm, I'm sure he'll be fine if you folk stay over for the night."

Lee smiled in appreciation, as did Clementine.

"Well, now when I think about it, the house is full, right?" Otis asked.

Shawn waved it off with his hand. "Daddy's a softie. He'll let 'em stay in the barn, at the very least."

Lee got anxious again, but hid it behind his smile.

An old man with a sizable gut, and worker's overalls opened the door when the group was within reaching distance of the house. "Shawn. How nice of you to come back at such a late hour. Ya'll had me worried." He spoke with as harsh a tone he could muster, but it was still somewhat gentle.

Shawn poked a thumb at three behind him. "It's thanks to Otis and those two. We were in a tight spot, but they helped pull us out of it."

The old man peered at the newcomers, especially the shotgun in Lee's hand, somewhat suspiciously. "Well I'm glad ya brought him and found these strangers."

"They need a place to stay, and I owe them. Could they stay here for a while?" Lee quietly sucked in his breath. Moment of truth time.

"Well, there ain't no room in the house, but I reckon we can fashion a few beds for ya in the barn. Got another family in there, anyways." The old man said nonchalantly. "The name's Hershel, and I got to thank ya'll for making sure my son stayed alright."

Hershel extended his hand to Lee, which he took, shook, and smiled politely.

The quiet nature of Lee shook Hershel the wrong way. "You ain't gonna speak, boy? Normally when somebody gives you their name, ya give yours back in return." he stated.

Sensing what could have a been a horrible misunderstanding, Shawn stepped in. "Oh, he can't. That's Lee. He's a mute. That little girl with him is his niece, Clementine."

Lee smiled weakly and Clementine waved at the mention of her name.

Hershel seemed taken aback, and opened his mouth to apologize.

Lee held his hand up to stop his line of thought. He had heard the same apology many times before. It's alright.

Hershel then noticed Lee stood with a limp. "Is your leg alright, son?"

The constant pressure of standing on it was about to make Lee throw up. Instead of trying to relay that message, Lee just shook his head.

"Here, lemme patch that up for ya. Shawn? Get my bag." Lee slung his arm over Hershel's shoulders and was guided to the bench on the patio. Once there, Lee collapsed onto it and sighed with relief. It still hurt like hell, though.

Hershel made a noise as he inspected the wound. "Looks like you got it pretty good. Must be in a lot of pain, huh?" He put a finger on it for a second.

Lee winced at the poke, and nodded. The pain was worse than when he broke his foot playing basketball.

Clementine sat back and watched the display.

Hershel eyed the little girl. "So you know this man?"

Clementine made a noise of surprise before nodding sheepishly. "Yes, he's my uncle. On my daddy's side!" She finished a little too loudly. Clementine was never a good liar, and she earnestly hoped Hershel didn't notice.

She was spared of more scrutiny by Shawn's return. "I got the bag for ya dad." He held it out for Hershel's access.

Hershel gently grabbed it from Shawn's grasp. "Thank ya, Shawn. Now go get some rest. It's late."

"Actually, there's something else I wanted to talk about. Something... important." Shawn responded.

Hershel started dressing Lee's wound, but nodded his head to let Shawn know he was listening.

"We need to fortify the surrounding area. I don't trust the small fences we have here. It's just not safe. Tomorrow morning, can I start making the place a bit more safer? Please?"

Hershel finished his ministrations to Lee's leg as Shawn's plea ended. "Now why would you want to add on more chores to the one's you already have, son?"

Shawn locked his jaw. "Because the dead are up, walking around. It's worse than what the T.V.s and the radios say. It's getting worse out there, and we need to protect ourselves."

Hershel looked over at Lee for confirmation. "Is this true?"

Lee, now feeling much better after having his leg tended to, nodded grimly.

Hershel nodded, more to himself than anyone else. "Alright then. Go for it."

Shawn barely even heard him before continuing on his schpeel. "It's too dangerous now that we have kids here and-"

Hershel looked over his shoulder, back to his son. "I already said ya could..." he drawled out.

"I'll get to it first thing tomorrow morning, then." Shawn stated. He turned to go back inside before bidding the newcomers and his father goodnight.

"As for you two, I'm sorry to say that our house is all filled up. I wish I could offer you more hospitality, but unfortunately the only open place is the barn, and even that is startin' to get crowded..." Hershel explained with guild clear in his voice.

Lee patted Hershel's arm to show his gratitude, regardless of the sleeping situation, while Clementine voiced both of their pleasure with a sincere "Thank you very much, sir. We really appreciate you doing this."

Hershel laughed. "Now it's the least I could do for y'all after saving my son. Lemme go fetch y'all some blankets and pillows. We'll talk later in the morning."

The two were handed a blanket and comforter and set themselves off to the barn. The doors were already opened, and the chorus of snores could be heard from Hershel's house. Lee looked up and saw a tiny arm hanging over the balcony of the barn, and concluded that is was the other family taking residence. Two makeshift beds were made in relative silence, and Lee and Clem laid down looking at each other. The smell of manure hung deep in the air, and Clementine asked what it was.

Lee made a hand motion, and Clementine just looked confused. There wasn't a gesture he could make for manure, so he went with a motion that told her to ignore it. With that, the unlikely duo fell asleep in silence.

Well, for Clem anyways.

The breeze always made her hair look ethereal. Her pearly whites were all straight, and her smile, seductive. The sun made her caramel skin look beautiful. They held hands and he felt like he would die a happy man. Her slender, manicured finger nails would sign back to him, and he couldn't help but feel like the clumsiest man in the world with his worn out and coarse hands. And that hurt all the more.

Her laugh always was torturous to him. He tried as hard as he could to keep her laughing even though he couldn't join her. There was always a problem with his delivery; sign language couldn't interpret sarcasam...

That bitch.

What? Why?

He didn't deserve that, nobody did. And yet, here he is, sleeping in a bale of hay next to a girl who isn't even ten yet that he has to protect, thinking about... her... her ebony hair flowing with the breeze, her gentle smile, and the smooth feeling of her hand in his...

Lee didn't even blink that night.

* * *

He shut his eyes once he hear a rustle, feeling the weight of another sleepless night come crashing down on him. The family climbed down and noticed Clementine was awake, and they took her in tow out of the barn.

Well, almost everyone.

Having not been able to talk for his whole life, Lee made sure his sensory abilities were above average. He heard three sets of feet when the family woke up, and once they took Clementine outside, he only heard three sets, again. So that means...

"Wake up, sunshine." A southern voice called out.

... One stayed back for him.

Lee mustered whatever strength he had to push himself up off the 'bed.' In front of him stood a middle-aged man in jeans and a t-shirt with a ball cap on, and a mighty mustache.

Impressive.

He made a waving motion signifying his harmlessness and gestured for Lee to follow him. The ex-con fell in step rather quickly with the newcomer.

"You're damn lucky that Hershel would let you stay here. I felt like I had to haggle him with my arm and the blood of a goat in order to stay one night." The man continued.

Lee actually would've laughed at that if he could.

The two strolled up to Clementine and what must be the man's wife, conversing with each other. Good to know at least some sense of normalcy remains.

"Hi Lee." Clementine said quietly. Lee gave a quick, friendly wave.

"So you're name is Lee, huh?" A nod. "Well, I'm Kenny. And this here is my beautiful wife Katjaa. Say hello, dearest," Kenny introduced with faux-gentlemanliness.

"Hello Lee, it's nice to finally meet you. I was just asking your niece here about you." The woman responded with a slight European accent that Lee couldn't quite place. "She says you cannot talk. Is it because of a vow of silence? I'm sure the Lord will be fine with you breaking it with the world the way it is, now..."

Two almost laughs in two minutes. This day is all coming up Lee Everett. He shook his head and pointed at his vocal chords before shaking his head, again. His vocal folds were wounded at a very young age (no thanks to his brother, Brad), and was a legal mute by age seven. Since then, he became dedicated with his craft of history, and ended up teaching for the students with disabilities class up in UGA.

Not that any of that shit matters anymore, because nobody he's met so far understands sign language.

Katjaa's optimism was put off for a bit after learning of Lee's problem. She responded with an "Oh." And the awkward silence kicked in.

Kenny coughed and changed the subject. "Well, today we're gonna head out towards the coast, probably stop at Macon, for the day. There's room for two more... if you're interested."

Lee nodded, enthusiastically. It's only been a few days since the outbreak started, right? Maybe Macon wasn't hit? Maybe he could help his family, or-

"HEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLPPPP!" A young boy's voice screamed out.

Kenny's eyes widened in a split second. "Oh shit, Duck!" And he bolted off in the direction of the voice, with Lee not too far behind.

The two future partner's-in-crime skidded to a halt at the sight of something horrible. Shawn, who was fixing up the fence around the perimeter, got his leg stuck under the tractor that Duck was in charge of, and the sound brought a legion of those... whatever the hell they are, upon the unsuspecting duo. Duck currently had one on him, with its decaying hands firmly grasped on his shoulders, while Shawn had three rapidly descending on him while his leg was still caught.

Lee looked at Kenny in the eyes, and the two nodded. Kenny swooped in, grabbing Duck and peeling him away from the abomination, while Lee charged into the front of the tractor, shoulder first, trying to push the impossibly heavy tractor off of the poor farmer boy.

Kenny was able to evacuate Duck, safely, but Lee was struggling mightily with the tractor. Try as he might, inch by inch, the tractor would move off of Shawn's most likely broken leg, but he still couldn't get away. The dead quickly shambled their way over to the scene and Lee desperately kept hitting the tractor off while Shawn's pleas were heard under deaf ears.

It got to the point where a demon's finger brushed over Lee's shoulder that made him stumble back. He was so intently focused on moving the tractor off of Shawn, that he completely forgot about the the close proximity of the undead. A gruesome sight of three demons feasting on Shawn was the scene that greeted Lee.

It wasn't there for long, though, as three cracks from a gun sent the beasts down for a dirt nap. Lee swiveled his head around to see Hershel holding the shotgun Lee used yesterday, with smoke leaving the end of the barrel. Hershel's face held a stern glare, that softened as soon as his eyes fell on his dying son. The smoking gun left his hands and Hershel scooped up his blood-soaked son.

"It'll all be okay, son... It'll all be okay... You will be with the Lord, now..." Hershel whispered softly. Shawn tried to say something back, but he couldn't find the strength to. His eyes fluttered shut, and his body went limp. Hershel's eyes widened to that of saucers.

What happened next, Lee wasn't expecting.

"Get. Out."

I'm sorry, what?

Hershel stood up and faced the group, with his jaw locked tight. Then he jammed his index finger toward his tenants. "For God's sake, LEAVE!" the old man hollered, his voice hoarse with sadness and anger.

Kenny, with his young son still in his arms clutched tightly, dropped his head. "I'm so… so sorry…"

That set him off. "Sorry?! YOUR SON IS ALIVE!" Hershel calmed somewhat, "You don't get to be sorry…" Tears started welling in his eyes and he turned his back to the group. "I appreciate the help you tried to give, Lee… but it doesn't mean anything…" The mute man looked away, guiltily. "Just… just go." He was crying steadily now. "GET OUT, AND NEVER COME BACK!"

Lee quietly skulked back into the sorrowful circle of Kenny, Duck, Katjaa, and Clementine. All of them were deathly silent which made Lee all the more uncomfortable. Clementine had her chin in her chest and she was sobbing silently. Lee knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, and surprisingly, she didn't pull away. Clementine's tears soaked Lee's shoulder, but he didn't mind. Too much happened in such a short amount of time, they all needed a minute to recuperate.

When the crying finally ended, Kenny stepped towards the two. "We still have those two seats to Macon if ya'll are still interested." Lee nodded and gently let go of Clementine. He gestured towards Kenny's truck and Clementine wiped her eyes and nodded. It was time for them to go.

Lee stood up and took Clementine's hand in his. The two then walked in silence to Kenny's pick-up and piled in. Kenny pulled out of the farmland with haste, but for two straight hours the only sound that permeated the group was gravel being crunched.

Then Lee realized something EXTREMELY important and promptly hit his seat, annoyed. Kenny looked over at Lee questioningly. "Everything alright?"

Lee made a motion of holding the shotgun he had, and pumping it. Hershel had taken his gun, and Lee never took it back; with the possibility of walkers in Macon, the group definitely could've used it. Plus, he was really starting to like it as a zombie killing weapon…

Well, no use crying over spilled milk.

The ride to Macon took up the entire day, as Kenny's pick-up had nearly run out of gas on the outskirts of the town. For most of the ride, Lee had tried teaching Clementine sign language and she had been surprisingly receptive. Clementine had learned the entire alphabet, and a few small words. Duck tried learning, too, but still struggled with the alphabet. Kenny and Katjaa were smiling as they watched their son learning. A shroud of normalcy was around them once again. But as they powered through inner Macon, that normalcy was quickly discarded.

Walkers infested the entire inner-city and there wasn't a shred of life to beheld. The beasts were wandering, aimlessly, with blood around their mouths and missing parts of their necks. Finally, on the other side of Macon, Kenny had announced that they were riding on fumes, and suggested pulling over for the night to scavenge for supplies. Throughout the entire ride, Lee was looking at familiar sights around Macon. His old high school looked horrible, with it Homecoming banner ripped off the nails and hung on the sidewalk. His old house looked virtually untouched, however, but he knew better than to try and find his family. When he stood in that courtroom and the judge was passing his sentence, Lee looked to his family and saw the disappointment in his father's and brother's faces.

His mother was sobbing uncontrollably.

And of course now, minus a car and looking for gas, does Kenny pull up next to his family-owned pharmacy. The one place that can be directly traced back to Lee's past is the one place the group decided to rest at. Lee's fears of his past being discovered outweighed his fears of being devoured by the walkers by a huge margin. At least he could trick the walkers; humans were much more smart.

The group of five stood in the middle of the three-way intersection that Lee's family pharmacy sat on the corner of. While Lee was muddled in his own thoughts, Kenny saw a man hunched over, and called to him. "Hey man! Are you alive?! We need a hand, and we'll be glad to make a trade!"

The man's head turned on a swivel and it proved to be, what else? A walker. "Fuuck!" Kenny shouted, garnering Lee's, and the rest of the neighborhood's, attention.

Walkers started pouring out of the wetworks, crawling from under an over-turned semi, and crashing through closed doors.

The group was, in a word, fucked. They slowly backed into each other until their backs literally were touching. One of the walkers honed in on Duck and collapsed on top of him. Kenny saw this out of the corner of his eye and made a dash for his son. "Duck! No!"

The walker reared back its head, ready to take a chomp, when suddenly a gunshot rang through the ears of the group. A young white woman burst out of the pharmacy, followed by a younger asian guy. "Get inside! NOW!" The group hastily agreed. Kenny grabbed Duck as quick as he could and dragged Katjaa by the hand, while Lee held Clementine tenderly in his arms.

All five of them made a beeline for the pharmacy and the asian guy locked the gate that surrounded the front double doors with a padlock. As soon as he heard that familiar click of the padlock, Lee let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and Clementine reached from her held position to hug Lee around her neck. That was too close, again. The asian guy pushed past the not-father-and-daughter, and it made Lee remember where he was. And a question.

Who are these people?

He took his time entering the pharmacy, and he was right to do so. It was just as much a war zone in there, as it was out here.

"Jesus Christ, they've got kids, Lily!" The woman from before interjected.

"I SAID THAT DOOR DOESN'T COME OPEN!" Another woman, who looked a little older, shouted back.

"Well maybe you should join 'em, maybe you'll have something in common…" Kenny muttered. Lee felt like slapping his mustachio'd friend. Was he stupid?

"I'm trying to keep us alive." The woman, Lily, grounded out.

A man, who looked even older, but still in way great shape, stepped forwards. "I don't see any of you trying to make the tough decisions!" He spat, before noticing Duck who was being attended to by Katjaa. His attitude, if possible, got hotter. "Jesus, one of them is bitten!"

Kenny looked over to his son and shook his head quickly. "No, he isn't!"

"Yes he is!" The man pressed. "She'll find the bite, just watch!"

"IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN!" Kenny shouted.

"WELL WHAT IF IT DOES?!" The man shouted back. Then his face soured up into a grim look. "The first thing he'll do is bite his momma's face right off..."

"How do you even know that..." Kenny all but whispered.

"HE'S BITTEN! THAT'S HOW YOU TURN! WE'VE SEEN IT HAPPEN BEFORE!"

All while this war of words was continuing, Clementine's grip on Lee's hand tightened. "Lee!"

Lee's attention swiftly changed to Clementine. She was grimacing. "I have to pee!"

Now Lee never had, nor wanted to have, children. They smelled bad, always had to go to the bathroom, and never allowed the peace of day. And when they want/need to do something, it was full-on panic mode.

Lee's head visibly shook for five seconds trying to overcome the simple obstacle of a little girl going to the bathroom, but his brain just would not compute. Finally he looked back at Clementine (who was a bit weirded out by Lee's neural breakdown), and signed to her _'can you hold it?'_

Clementine nodded, but she seemed a little to squeamish to help allay Lee's fears. Meanwhile, the argument had escalated about what to do with Duck.

"We've gotta smash his head in with a rock, or something!" the big man declared.

"You're crazy, he's just a little boy!" the brunette savior reasoned.

"Dad..." Lilly held the man's arm back.

"Shut up, Lilly!" He pulled his arm roughly back into place. Then he rounded on the other brunette. "And you, SHUT THE FUCK UP. Your itchy trigger finger is about to get us killed! They will find us, and we'll die, and then nothing will fucking matter!"

Katjaa seemed completely out of her element with all the screaming and accusations. "Please stop shouting! It's upsetting him!" she cried out desperately.

"Upsetting him?!" The man shouted out in disbelief, "Oh, so I'm now upsetting what the fucking problem is?! THAT'S IT! HE'S GONE, RIGHT. NOW!" The large man took three strong strides to where Duck and Katjaa was, only to be cut off half-way there.

Lee stood there, eyes defiant, and arms crossed. He was not letting him get Duck without a fight.

"Oh, now we've got another asshole to deal with!" The man threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "Whatcha gotta say, huh? Am I wrong? Did I hurt your feelings? Do you want to save that little boy?" He said in a patronizing tone, not unlike talking to a baby.

Lee shook his head. "Then what is it?! What, can't talk? What are you, a mute?!"

Lee nodded. And then reared back his head, and crushed his forehead into the accuser. A devastating head-butt, to say the least.

As the man clutched his head in agony, a shriek from a little person permeated the pharmacy. Clementine! She must have wondered off once Lee squared off with the big guy. She had walker right on her heels on the other side of his family's store, and Lee was not going to let that tragedy happen. He sprinted to the other side, and football tackled the walker away from Clementine.

One problem solved. Now a new one arises. The walker's insistence on Clementine being its next meal quickly shifted to Lee, and that wasn't ideal considering how close he is to it. The walker lunged for Lee, arms first, so Lee backed up and caught the walker's arms and tried pushing it away. Unfortunately, the undead have a strength not known to this world, so Lee's struggle was quickly tipping away from his favor.

A gunshot rang through his ears, and Lee's heart skipped two beats. The walker went limp, and crumpled to the floor, while the now double savior brunette stood still, holding a handgun with the barrel still smoking. "You okay?" she asked quietly.

Lee nodded. That was the only thing he could do, right now.

Oh, but the noise of that gunshot...

The groans of the undead filled the ears of the ten survivors, and every one of them dropped to the floor, immediately. They scratched at the windows and batted on the walls, attempting to find an entrance, before the sound of several more gunshots were heard. That's a good sign, right?

Kenny got up first, "Hopefully that's the sound of us winning this thing..."

The guy with an attitude got up, next. "How could you do something as stupid as that?! That was stupid! That was-UGHHH!" his rant was cut off and he grabbed his chest, tightly.

"Dad!" Lilly sprinted towards her fallen father, and started checking his pulse and temperature.

Kenny's eyes widened. "Was he the one that was bitten?"

"No, asshole! It's his heart!" Lilly informed, hotly.

"My... my pills..." he managed to squeak out.

"Um, nitroglycerin pills?" Katjaa asked, out of the blue. **(A/N: I mean, really. Who the fuck know that?)**

"Yes! That's why we've been here for so long! The way back into the storeroom is locked, that's where the pills are!"

"Alright, then we'll take over from here," Kenny drawled, "Lilly, keep an eye on your dad, we don't want any surprises happening. You," he pointed at a portly guy who hadn't said a thing since the group made it into the pharmacy, "are gonna be our lookout."

"It's Doug, and you got it." the guy said, almost eagerly.

"And I'm Carley." the lady with the gun informed.

"Alright Carley, get some rest before switching out posts with Doug." Kenny ordered.

"You got it, boss." Carley said tiredly.

Lilly frowned at the new title, but said nothing. The asian man stepped forward. "We're gonna need gas if we're gonna make our way getaway. I'll go siphon cars for gas, so we can make our way up out of here."

Kenny shook his head. "You're crazy."

The guy folded his arms across his chest. "Hey, somebody's gotta do it. Besides, I know all the backroads around Macon." he said matter-of-factly.

Kenny's eyebrow rose. "Local?"

"Born and raised."

"Then that's a mighty fine idea. Everyone else, hunker down and get some rest. We need to get in that storeroom and out before the walkers figure us out." Kenny said to the rest of the group.

Lee heaved a big sigh.

_'We got us some work to do...'_


End file.
